


To Be Satisfied

by Duskfalls



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentor/Protégé, Two Loveable Emotionally Repressed Idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23422615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duskfalls/pseuds/Duskfalls
Summary: Yennefer and Tissaia have known each other for a long time. And yet, there is still more for them to learn. Things they’ve left unsaid.In other words, the revelations that come out on the night before Sodden may change everything.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 73
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

Yennefer is still staring into the campfire hours after most people have gone to bed. She knows that it will be a long and hard battle against Nilfgaard tomorrow, and she doesn’t know how to face sleep when she imagines that there is a high likelihood that Triss, Sabrina, and a lot of other comrades might die due to Fringilla’s machinations.

There is the very real possibility that the woman who holds her heart might die. And she has never been so afraid.

A warm blanket is draped over her shoulders. “It’s late, piglet,” Tissaia brushes a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “You should go to bed.”

Yennefer doesn’t reply. She is envisioning the tactics that they will need in order to have a chance of success tomorrow. Triss must draw poisonous mushrooms out to stop the first wave of soldiers, Coral will contribute with her own sorcery – Yennefer doesn’t know what she’ll do but as Tissaia’s peer she has no doubt in her abilities to hold her own, Sabrina will lead the archers in firing their blue acid bombs and –

Tissaia decides to completely invade Yennefer’s personal space and sits down on her log, leans into her and drops her head onto her shoulder.

Yennefer blinks, baffled. “Uhh – Tissaia?”

“Hmm?” Tissaia murmurs.

“You’re, umm,” Yennefer finds herself fumbling for words. Which she feels is entirely justified, when a Tissaia-shaped lump decides to fuse herself to her side. “That’s probably not a very comfortable position.”

“It’s fine,” Tissaia wraps her arms around her waist. Yennefer freezes and then gradually relaxes. Half of her wants to ask what is going on, but the other half decides that it feels good to have her near, so for the next few minutes, nothing more is said. The crackling pops of the fire is soothing, as is the solid weight draped against her.

“You know the first time I saw you, I didn’t think you would make it more than a month.” Tissaia admits.

Yennefer snorts. “The first time I saw you, I thought you were a noblewoman who just wanted to get an extra servant through cheap means. So I guess we were both rather off the mark.”

It has been a long time since Yennefer has heard Tissaia’s laughter, and she wishes she could capture that sound in a bottle and keep it. “I do recall your mother saying that I was a witch in front of you. Did that not give it away?”

Yennefer is silent for a moment. She hasn’t lied to Tissaia on most things, she respects her even if she often disagrees with her, but that doesn’t mean that she has given everything away either. They have both inflicted too much pain on each other for that.

“My mother used to speak to me of Aretuza. She would describe its towers and the blue stone sigils which would shine all through the night and how she had known girls who had gone into Aretuza and come out capable, powerful, beyond belief.”

Tissaia draws her head out of the crook of her shoulder. Yennefer can tell without looking at her that she is listening, intently.

“But I didn’t believe her. I mean— “ Yennefer amends. “—I couldn’t believe her. Because it sounded too good to be true. And even if it were,” she clenches her jaw, “why would they have taken a cripple?”

Yennefer can still feel the phantom pain of her hunched spine, even though it’s been years, decades, since it’s been uneven. But she is a woman now, and a powerful sorceress in her own right, and can at least sidestep around her weaknesses better than she used to. “Anyways, I didn’t know about conduit moments, you took me in regardless, and here we are.”

Tissaia has a dark look on her face that Yennefer doesn’t quite know how to interpret. “Are they still alive?”

“No,” She plans to leave it there, as she sees no reason to dwell on the history of two people who she considers insignificant, now, in the grand scheme of things. Yet Tissaia is still looking at her, and Yennefer doesn’t know why this matters so much to her but the staring is starting to get unnerving. When it comes to this woman, she caves.

“I went back a couple of years after I’d Ascended and found my sister.” The youngest, whom Yennefer had gotten on with somewhat well. “She told me that our father had continued gambling in my absence, and one year, when there was a particularly bad dry season, he gambled and didn’t have enough to pay back his debt.”

Yennefer doesn’t feel much remorse with what she says next. “There were creditors. He succumbed to his injuries. Mother apparently took the easy way out after that.”

Tissaia’s mouth parts in a tiny smile. “Good.” Yennefer would be questioning that statement but gets distracted by how radiant Tissaia becomes when she genuinely smiles. “I would have left him with much more dire consequences, if you hadn’t been so traumatized as you were.”

Yennefer feels a rush of warmth and decides some turnabout is fair play. “And what about you?” She is surprised she has never thought to ask before. “Did you visit your parents after your Ascension?”

Tissaia scoffs in remembered disbelief. “No, much like your father, they were glad to be rid of me.” This time, Yennefer attaches herself around her waist and growls, because that statement is unacceptable and makes no sense whatsoever.

“Why?”

“Why are all girls cast aside?” Tissaia remarks, making no move to get out of her embrace. “Because I had the audacity to come into the world as a girl, not a boy, and thus depriving my father of an heir.”

“An heir?”

Tissaia waves her hand nonchalantly. “King Thyssen had started to mine Kovir for iron and silver and noticed that there were more ores to be found. He figured that the region would provide much more than anyone had first anticipated and wanted a son to pass down his legacy to.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up.” Yennefer did not expect her to bring up a king of all things and feels as though she’s been punched. “Your father is King Thyssen of Kovir? You’re a princess?!”

“Well, clearly, I am not.” Tissaia smirks, and Yennefer does not know which piece of information will make her head explode first. She also wants to wipe that smugness off her face with her lips. “I’m a Rectoress.”

“But you were a princess,” Yennefer knows this changes nothing. It changes everything. “I wasn’t half wrong then.”

“Lucky guess,” Yennefer is never going to let her live this down, if she’s decided to share. “And I’d appreciate it if you kept this particular bit of knowledge to yourself.”

“I could, if I had the right motivation, princess,” is what pops out of Yennefer’s mouth, before her brain re-engages and reminds her that this is Tissaia she’s speaking to. Oops. Decades worth of seduction can be a rather hard habit to break.

Besides, that isn’t only what Yennefer wants with Tissaia. She has spent so many nights with strangers, entangled in their limbs and tossed in their sheets, but ultimately, she wanted nothing from them.

Tissaia is someone who has seen all of her, even when she was deformed, and never looked upon her with disgust. She took a broken girl out of a pig pen and made her strong. Resilient. She had a chance at life because of her.

And granted, while she is still harboring a searing resentment at how much enchantment has cost her, over time, she has also come to acknowledge that their beauty comes at a price. Given the option, she was always going to become a mage, so she was never going to outrun that choice.

Tissaia is also one of the most powerful sorceresses on the Continent. Yennefer didn’t truly understand the extent of her clout until her time in Aedirn, where she found out that almost every court mage she’d encountered had been influenced by her tutelage in some way. Yet she is still kind, and willing to help and speak out for those who need it most, even if they turn their backs on her, like Cintra. Like all the other rebellious girls with chaos that fate would have otherwise tossed aside.

How could Yennefer not want everything with her?

“Motivation,” Tissaia drags out the word and her eyes glint mischievously. “Is one witcher not enough motivation for you? Even if he is being a temporary disappointment?”

“What, Geralt?”

“No, Vesemir. Yes, of course, Geralt.” Tissaia says now with a tinge of impatience. “Last I heard, you’d gone dragon hunting with him. And then before that, there was a djinn and an orgy. What happened?”

“How do you know all that?” Yennefer is flabbergasted.

“Jaskier talks. Now stop avoiding the question, what happened?”

“You didn’t get that from him as well?”

“He went strangely silent for once when I pressed,” Tissaia frowns a little in disgruntlement. Yennefer finds it adorable. “And I’d much rather hear it from you.”

Yennefer swallows. She did not think in her heart of hearts, that her story with Geralt would turn out to be a happy-ever-after. But while not _in love,_ she did love, and there is a part of her that still hurts when she thinks about the aftermath of their liaison. More than it had with Istredd. “He used his last wish to bind our fates together, in order to save me from the djinn.” She revealed. “So, I’ll never know if our feelings were actually real.”

“Oh, Yennefer,” Tissaia looks torn between wanting to say something or commit murder on her behalf. “You…” She trails off and seemingly tries to search for the right words to such a comment. “You are young and driven and beautiful, I’m certain that you’ll find someone else.”

“I’m fine.” She’s not. She wants to be important to someone and above all else, she wants to be important to Tissaia de Vries. But she can’t. Because according to Triss she’s with _fucking Vilgefortz._ “I meant what I said earlier you know,” _She needs to let go._ “I’ve accepted that life has no more to give. I don’t need to have a lover I want in order to live the rest of it.”

Tissaia has an incensed expression on her face that confuses her, because Yennefer doesn’t know what she’s said to warrant it and she doesn’t think she mentioned anything offensive about Geralt at all during that explanation.

“Tissaia!” Speaking of the devil. A most unwelcome interruption is making his way over to their little cocoon. Yennefer is a little glad she’s getting an escape from their current conversation topic but would also like to throw Vilgefortz into the forest for his timing. “Can you come take a look at this? I think there’s a new element that we could add to our battle plans and I’d like your input on it.”

Tissaia nods, but she still hasn’t looked away. “Yes, Vilgefortz, I’ll be there.”

“Great, see you inside.” He inclines his head. “Yennefer.”

“Vilgefortz,” Yennefer hopes that no trace of bitterness is present in her voice. “Good night.” He leaves.

Yennefer sighs, and is loath to abandon their little nest, because somehow Tissaia still hasn’t moved this entire time but knows she must. “Well, duty calls.” She gets up and can’t help leaving without a parting shot. “Have fun, but not too much. Make sure that you can still at least walk in the morning!”

She is halfway across the clearing and back to her tent when Tissaia responds. “Yennefer!”

She turns around. Tissaia is looking at her as if it might be the last chance she gets to do so and there is confusion and desperation and something else that Yennefer can’t decipher within her eyes but is piercing in its intensity. “Stay safe.”

Yennefer wants to stride back across the distance and enfold her in her arms. She wants to take her away from Vilgefortz, from here, and all the responsibilities and consequences that tomorrow will bring.

But she doesn’t.

Instead she replies, “You as well.” And goes to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was overwhelmed by the comments last chapter. Thanks for leaving them and the kudos! This is one of my first works, so it's exciting to hear feedback and means a lot to me.
> 
> This story will be more based on canon in the show than the books (besides what I dig up on wiki), and some of the games, as I'm writing what I know *grins*
> 
> Here is Sodden.

_Can anyone hear me?_

_Is anyone out there?_

_If you can hear me, you need to get to the front line._

_We can’t give up._

_We can still fight._

_Is anyone out there?_

_Is anyone still alive?_

***

Yennefer is gasping. She has been broadcasting for help since the afternoon and now night has fallen. Or at least, what she thinks is the night. There is so much smoke and ash in the air. Wherever she looks, there are the clashes of steel against steel, the shrieks of the wounded, the blood of the still warm bodies she has tripped over.

Sodden has fallen. Death and destruction trails everywhere.

She has rallied up the mages that she has run into to keep fighting. Every moment that she is not being immediately attacked, she can still see flashes of Sabrina’s form unmoving, Triss’s burned throat and pleading eyes, Coral’s shape still and pinned by a spear to a tree.

There are those she cannot save but there are also those she can. People she cares for. People she needs alive.

_Tissaia!_

Yennefer will not stop calling for that name until she finds her body or is dead.

“Look out!” The mage that has been tailing her lashes out with a gush of wind that catches a Nilfgaardian soldier on her blind side off guard with a grunt. She twists herself away from the sound and clenches her fist, his chokes following his descent as his windpipe collapses in on itself.

“Thanks,” she returns the favor by yanking him out of the way of an incoming sword thrust. “We’ve got to move.”

Her ally follows her as they unsteadily dodge and duck and curse their way up a slope. More than once, Yennefer sways and drags a fist over her stinging eyes. She does not know if it’s her imagination, but the sounds of soldiers and terror seems to be lessening.

They keep at this pace. Until unexpectedly, the mage she is with draws to a stop. “What are you doing?”

“This is where we part ways,” he says. His face is contorted in a grimace and one hand braces his side. “I can’t… keep…going.”

“You can,” Yennefer urges as she makes a move to stretch his arm across her shoulder, which he bats away. “We’re almost to the top.”

“It hurts… too much,” he pants. For a moment, he wears a look of peace. “I’ll get to join my beloved. And I’ll only slow you down. You need to keep going without me.”

Yennefer did not know this mage before the battle, but she does not want to lose any more people. “I—”

“Go!” He yells and takes the decision out of her hands by letting loose a gale that blasts her and a score of Nilfgaardians away.

Yennefer falls, but is still conscious. Blurrily, she can see a Nilfgaardian that landed near her on his feet start to lurch in her direction. Concentrating her strength inwards, she buries her hand in the dirt and waits for the soldier’s howls as the hilt of his sword begins to overheat.

She lets out an exhale, grits her teeth, and continues on her way. She does not look back.

Only when she gets up to the top of the slope, does she stop to catch her breath. Errant flames amongst the grass are bright here, and she finally has a clear view of the vista below, awash in an orange glow of all its gruesome glory.

“Yennefer!”

She whirls around. There is a solitary figure that is warming her hands by one of the fires.

“Oh thank god, you’re alive,” relief washes over her in a wave. She rushes forward. “Sabrina needs your help. We all do.”

Tissaia is whimpering. Little sounds of pain escape her mouth and soot and blood line her face. She drops to the ground and all of Yennefer’s relief dissolves into panic. “No!”

Tissaia lets out another groan and Yennefer drops with her. “No! The Northern Kingdoms are close.” She clutches her hands and twines their fingers together. “We can’t give up!”

“Leave this place,” Tissaia begs. There is a light of fear in her eyes that Yennefer has never seen before. “You can still save yourself.”

“No, I’m not going anywhere without you.” Yennefer searches frantically, but she can’t find the source of Tissaia’s wound. “Where were you hit? Where does it hurt?”

“It’s- it’s not,” Tissaia hisses as a thread of the poison slices her insides. “Fringilla had dimeritium powder.”

Yennefer blinks for a few seconds, the words not translating in her head. And then understanding hits her and she is irate. “She what?!” She shrieks. “Are you serious-“

“Yennefer”

“-how could you have gone to see her. Are you mad? You don’t just walk up to your enemy-”

“Yennefer”

“-and try to reason with them in the middle of an ongoing battle with no backup which I’m sure is what you did because it’s you-“

“Yen”

“-and if this was the new element that you and Vilgefortz were talking about last night then I swear to god-“

“Piglet!” The use of her pet name eventually cuts through the haze of her anger. When she comes to, only then does she feel how hard Tissaia’s nails are digging into her arms. “Focus.”

Tissaia’s head begins to droop and Yennefer is seized by fear. Her line of questioning can wait. Whatever damage the dimeritium is doing, it’s doing its work fast, and they are running out of time.

Tissaia might die.

“You saved me,” Yennefer needs her to know this. It's vital that she does. “I won’t ever forget that.”

“It’s your turn,” Tissaia’s voice is unwavering, “to save these people. This Continent.” Yennefer starts to shake her head in denial. “This is _your legacy_.”

“How?” her voice breaks. That’s an impossible task. “I can’t!”

“You _can_ ,” Tissaia whispers vehemently. Her nails stop digging into her arms but she still grabs onto her tightly. “Everything you have ever felt,” her emerald eyes are shining and ablaze with determination, “everything you have buried,” she strokes her cheek carefully.

“Forget the bottle,” she smiles. “Let your chaos explode.”

Yennefer shudders and drops forwards so she can lean her head against Tissaia, who now fully cups her cheek in her palm and strokes her thumb in little circles. Her heart is beating, their breaths are intermingling, and something about the tide of pure feeling she is riding on in this moment overwhelms her.

She cannot hold back her feelings any longer.

“You know, I wasn’t completely truthful with you last night, around the campfire. I haven’t truly accepted that life has no more to give,” Yennefer closes her eyes.

She is shaking and afraid.

She is free.

“I still want more. Because I have never felt for anyone the way I feel for you.”

She doesn’t need to open her eyes to hear Tissaia’s breath hitch.

***

Her thumb stops stroking and rests limply on her face.

There is no response.

Silence.

Yennefer’s heart cracks. She is about to open her eyes and come up with some sarcastic line or other to defend against the sinking ship of inevitable disappointment and then –

Tissaia’s lips cover her own.

Oh.

Yennefer stops thinking as she takes Tissaia into her arms fully and returns her kiss. 

They linger this way as lips steal across the other’s, caressing over and over again. When Tissaia makes to move away, Yennefer lets out a high-pitched mewl, and immediately has her lips reclaimed with bruising force. She releases a soft moan when Tissaia finally breaks the kiss.

“You have me.” Tissaia’s eyes are feverishly bright and Yennefer understands now that the glimpses of unrecognizable emotion from last night were actually of desire as she confesses her own feelings. She fiercely presses another kiss to Yennefer’s cheek and then her lips. “Don’t doubt that. Now go.”

Yennefer does go. And when she is standing on the hilltop, summoning every ounce of buried pain and fury to unleash into her fire, Tissaia’s love is the balance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really glad many of you seemed to like the ending to the last chapter. I'm also nervous that many of you seemed to like the ending to the last chapter LOL. At one point I was like oh shoot maybe I should just let the fic end there... but I think there is still more to uncover here, so onwards!

Yennefer awakens feeling like every part of her body was thrown into a wall. Repeatedly. Her skin is clammy and far too hot.

She tries to open her eyes but her head feels like it weighs a stone and she groans and decides it might be better not to and just lie there for a bit.

She tries to take stock of where she is by listening for sounds and then stops as she hears what seems to be an argument happening nearby, although it is muffled. Though it doesn’t stay that way for long, as suddenly she can catch a woman’s distressed voice, “–can’t use any more healing that way, you idiot! She has channeled far too much chaos already –“

“Tissaia?” She questions weakly.

“- what she needs now are natural remedies, though I haven’t the slightest idea why I need to be explaining this to a healer – “

“Tissaia,” Yennefer mutters, now certain.

“- unless you wish your patient to explode, which I can assure you will be what is left of your career if you do not stop this –“

 _Tissaia_.

The noises pause. A wave of dizziness hits and Yennefer groans again. This time, a door slams open and even footsteps approach. 

“Oww, keep it down,” she whines.

The back of a soft hand presses against her forehead, stays, lifts, and then is replaced by a blessed coolness. Yennefer sighs in content.

“Rest, Yennefer.” She can still hear traces of ire in Tissaia’s voice, though not directed at her, and perhaps this once thinks it would be best not to fight against her wishes. She obeys.

***

When Yennefer blinks awake again, the unbearable pain in her head has disappeared. So has Tissaia.

Instead it is Triss who sits by her bed, beaming as she notices its occupant stirring, “You’re awake! Welcome back.”

Yennefer tries to sit, only to have her elbows give out, so Triss braces her as she pulls herself up into a comfortable position. “I could have done that myself,” she grumbles.

“Uh-huh” Triss grins unrepentantly. “I’m sure you could have.”

Yennefer throws her fingers up in a crude response and Triss snickers.

“How long have I been out?” Yennefer has no idea what day it is but she did remember waking up before and hearing Tissaia, so some time must have passed.

“It’s been a week since Sodden,” Triss says, as she goes into healer mode and starts to take her temperature. “All the mages we were able to find on the battlefield who were still alive were brought back to Aretuza and they’re recovering, just like you.”

Yennefer licks her parched lips. “Who made it?” She makes hand gestures towards the jar of water by the bedside table.

“Oh, now you want my help,” Triss teases but does as she’s bid. Then she sobers. “We lost a lot of people. Coral is dead, as are Vanielle and Atlan.” She lists the names of others that Yennefer knew but did not know well.

“I asked who made it, Triss, not who died.” Yennefer thinks she knows why she dodged but she wants to hear it. “How is Sabrina?”

**_Snap_ **

The handle of the water jar falls to the ground and smashes into thick pieces. Yennefer starts a little, then stares at Triss whose face is suddenly a flushed pink. “Triss…”

“Oh, oh dear,” Triss snatches a towel and bends down to pick up the pieces unsteadily. “That was rather clumsy of me.”

“Triss,” Yennefer grabs the arm of her flustered friend and brings her to a stop. “Triss, look at me.” Triss turns her head aside and ignores her until she eventually cedes to Yennefer’s tugging. “Is Sabrina ok?”

Triss sighs and flops onto the bed. “She’s fine.” Yennefer lets out a breath in relief. “I know I shouldn’t be acting like this since she is, but…” Yennefer grasps her hand. “You didn’t see her when she came in, Yen. She kept saying that she couldn’t stop it, the mind worms, that she was so sorry, over and over again. Nothing helped. I was still recovering from my burns and the other healers had to sedate her.”

Yennefer slings an arm around her friend and lets her sniffle into her shoulder. “She’s been having trouble sleeping at night. I wake up and I know she’s been having a nightmare because I can feel her twisting and slapping at her ear.” An unusually dark look passes over Triss’s face. “It makes me so mad. That I can’t do anything to make it better. I know I shouldn’t, but I want to kill Fringilla with my bare hands.”

Yennefer chuckles. “You like her, Triss. I’d say that makes your anger entirely justified.” She strokes her hair. “As long as you’re by her side, you _are_ making it better for her. So just keep doing what you’re doing.” They sit in comfortable silence as Triss slowly calms.

When she does, Yennefer adds slyly, “And that answers my question as to whether or not you’ve been fucking.” 

Triss squawks, “What, I didn’t say that!” Yennefer starts cackling. “Ugh, fine, obviously we are. You can stop laughing like a hag now.” She doesn’t stop. Triss digs her elbow into her side.

“Hey!”

“And what about you then,” Triss retorts. “Have you been sleeping with our dear Rectoress?”

It’s Yennefer’s turn to flush pink. “Uhh, what?” She certainly wants to. Undeniably. But now that she knows that Tissaia feels the way she does, she doesn’t want to get ahead of herself on that particular activity until she knows where they stand.

Also, what she feels for Tissaia runs far deeper than that.

“No, I haven’t.” That’s the truth. “What on earth would give you that idea?”

Triss is giving her a disbelieving look that says she knows exactly what she’s hiding. “Only the fact that you’ve been attracted to her ever since I’ve met you.” Dammit. “And something’s changed since Sodden between the two of you. Otherwise Tissaia wouldn’t have been fighting over your care, or lack thereof, with a shoddy healer and getting kicked out of the infirmary.”

Yennefer can’t help letting out a smirk at that; she rather wishes she’d been fully awake to see it. It takes a lot to displace Tissaia’s composure. More importantly though, she still has a bone to pick with her friend.

“Well, Tissaia cares for all her girls, I’m sure she would have done the same for you.” Probably without the fighting. “Besides,” she narrows her eyes, “you were the one that told me she was with Vilgefortz.”

Triss looks nonplussed. “I did not.”

“Yes, you did,” Yennefer huffs, “and I quote: ‘Vilgefortz is to be our new daddy.’”

Triss arches her brow. “You’re quoting wrong. I said, ‘ _Is_ Vilgefortz to be our new daddy?’ I was asking you about their relationship status. Not confirming it.”

Yennefer doesn’t reply, stunned. Is that really what Triss had said that night? Why hadn’t Tissaia corrected her then? 

“Hey,” Triss brings her back to the present with a wave in her face. “So, is there something going on between you and Tissaia?”

Yennefer picks through and discards various answers before she simply settles on the one she wants to say. “I think so. At least… I’d like there to be.”

Triss gives her a warm smile and pats her arm. “Then stop overthinking and go make it official.” With that, she stretches, and vanishes the rest of the spilled jar and water from earlier. As she gets up to leave, she mentions one last thing.

“Don’t forget to wear something nice to dinner!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little extra context for last chapter's ending: I wanted the line 'Tissaia's love is the balance' to reference their first magic lesson where Tissaia explains "between your flower and your stone lies the balance" to demonstrate that chaos is a give and take. When Fringilla's hand rots and she screams, we realize that she didn't let the stone take the flower's chaos and there are consequences. She can still lift it, but she is missing the flowers as her anchor, so she can't control what it takes (her life force).
> 
> Similarly, the Nilfgaardian mages die while casting their fireballs because they let the fire take themselves and they have no anchor.
> 
> Yennefer takes fire that was already there and gives it back. In my interpretation for this fic, hers is so strong because she is going off of the high of Tissaia's confession and that sheer delight of having her feelings returned is her anchor (whereas the pain/suffering is her power). So not only can she do her big scary fire attack (lift her stone), she can also control it enough to protect her Tissaia (not lose the woman she loves or any body parts yay) even as she's toasting all the other Nilfgaardians


End file.
